Time Changes Everything
by and-apparently-clowns-kill
Summary: Can't tell you much about this one, but it involves LOTS of McGee whump and Gibbs angst! McGee is captured by someone holding a grudge against Gibbs. Happy reading! Rated M for torture and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**The plot was thought up by a friend of mine 'mutant-potato' I hope you like it  
****This also has nothing to do with my previous story.**

The callout had come early in the morning. The wife of a nave lieutenant had been shot in her home. When the paramedics arrived, she had been pronounced dead at the scene.

Memories resurfaced of Shannon and Kelly, but Gibbs pushed them back in annoyance, memories could wait until he had his boat and alcohol.

Striding into the bullpen, interrupting DiNozzo and Ziva's verbal sparing match with a "And that's why you're not allowed to have kids, DiNozzo."

Tony looked up startled and Ziva hid a smirk behind her hand.

"Grab your gear, we've got a dead lieutenant's wife down town."

"Right Boss." Tony said, grabbing his bag from beside his table.

"And where's McGee?" Gibbs asked, not looking up from where he was holstering his gun.

Tony glanced at Ziva and mumbled, "McTardy's not in yet Boss."

Gibbs stifled a groan and looked up at McGee's desk.

"Find him." he told DiNozzo, "Gas the truck and bring it round front." he told Ziva as he threw her the keys. She caught them expertly and walked out to the elevator.

Gibbs glanced over at Tony who had a worried look on his face, he glanced up at Gibbs but said nothing.

"You waiting for an invitation?" Gibbs grumbled.

"No, Boss. Probie's mobiles off and all I'm getting on his home phone is the dial tone."

Gibbs' eyes flashed worry and fear before all emotion was hidden.

Picking up his phone, he dialled Ziva's number, "Ziva, you go take charge of the crime scene. We'll go pick up McGee and meet you there." He hung up before Ziva could reply.

Walking to the elevator, Gibbs called over his shoulder, "Coming, DiNozzo?"

Tony jumped from his seat and followed Gibbs, sliding between the elevator doors as they closed, missing the slight amused smile gracing Gibbs' lips as he entered.

It was a quick and uneventful trip to McGee's house. Gibbs got out from behind the wheel as Tony stumbled out on slightly shaky legs, Gibbs' driving always did that to him.

Gibbs was moving towards McGee's apartment, footsteps muffled by the carpeted stairway.

When Gibbs arrived outside McGee's door, he un-holstered his weapon and waited for Tony.

One look at Gibbs standing beside McGee's front door, gun raised, sent shivers down Tony's spine. A glance at the door saw it open slightly, the lock broken, dead bolt hanging uselessly too one side.

Tony un-holstered his weapon with the fluid motion that came only from years of experience.

Gibbs moved his hands, signalling that Tony would open the door, Gibbs would take the left and Tony the right. Tony nodded his understanding and raised his gun.

Tony pulled the door open, hands steady but his eyes wavered in fear, expecting to see McGee sprawled on the floor, blood seeping from bullet wounds staining the floor a deep read, body already cool and lifeless.

Gibbs poked his head around the door, the room was a mess. Computer parts strewn across the floor, typewriter lying broken against the wall that obviously broke it, books, CD's and clothes lay haphazardly on the floor. But the thing that worried Gibbs the most, that made his heart skip a beat, was the small pool of blood seeping from under McGee's bedroom door.

**TBC**

**Don't you just love clifhangers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for reading this far!**

Tony stood rooted in place, fear glazed eyes stared blankly at the drying blood.

Gibbs looked stunned but quickly pulled himself together. He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, effectively bringing the younger man out of his fear induced thoughts.

Tony glanced at Gibbs, barely controlled fear tinted his eyes as they advanced on McGee's bedroom.

Gibbs shot Tony a quick look and they burst into the room, almost tripping over the still body on the floor behind the door.

Tony looked down in fear, but the eyes staring back unmoving were not McGee's. The eyes of the man looked unseeing at the ceiling, blood no longer flowing from the bullet wounds in the mans stomach and chest.

After securing the rest of the house, Gibbs bent down next to the body. "Look's like these were made by McGee's gun." he observed.

"But, then where is he?" Tony asked, his voice holding barely concealed fear.

Gibbs stood and slapped Tony lightly on the back of the head, "I don't know. But we _will_ find him."

"Right, Boss." They both knew neither truly believed the statement.

Gibbs took control, "Call Ziva, tell her to get over here. I'll tell the director and get her to give the lieutenants case to another team, we'll be looking for McGee."

Tony nodded and raised his phone to his ear, pressing speed dial two.

Gibbs contacted the director and informed her of McGee's disappearance. She agreed that Gibbs would take McGee's case and she would send out another team to look after the other scene.

Gibbs hung up. Looking around the room, taking in the knocked over chest of draws, the broken TV and crumpled bed sheets. Spent bullet casings littered the floor, drops of blood had begun to dry, turning a dark red.

A shallow intake of breath brought Gibbs back to the people in the room, Ziva walked in, holding the butt of her gun protectively.

Ducky and Palmer walked in behind Ziva, stepping around the broken pieces that had once been McGee's prized typewriter.

"My God." Ducky whispered as he stared at the battlefield that had once been McGee's bedroom, "Has anyone told Abigail about this?"

Gibbs winced, the young gothic scientist would take McGee's kidnapping harder than anyone else.

"I'll tell her." Gibbs promised.

Tony and Ziva looked up and nodded, Gibbs was the only person Abby wouldn't kill when he brought her the news. When it came to bad news about her friends, Abby didn't know the meaning of '_don't shoot the messenger_.'

Tony and Ziva went back to work as Gibbs left, planning to get back to NCIS headquarters and give Abby and Director Sheppard an update of the situation.

_McGee woke slowly, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. Questions assaulted his confused mind, his breath quickened, broken ribs burnt, making their presence known as blinding pain shot through his chest with each heaving breath. McGee took one laboured breath after another, concentrating only on breathing. Blocking out the putrid smells and dim light around him. His captor circled him like a vulture does its pray, his teeth a dim yellow against the fluorescent lights._

_"What…" McGee croaked, "do you…want?" he coughed, blood slid down his chin as a split lip reopened as he spoke._

_His captor grinned, "That's from me to know and Gibbs to find out."_

_"Been working on…that one for…for a while?" McGee gasped._

_The grin turned cold, the man sprang forward and pressed cool metal to McGee's cheek. "Speak again without being told to first, and I will kill you."_

_McGee nodded slowly._

_The grin returned to the captors face as he turned to retrieve a gag from the wood table behind him. McGee followed the material strip worriedly. The man pushed the cloth into his mouth, holding it in place with the strip between McGee's teeth._

_The stifled scream erupted from McGee's lips as a knife blade pierced his arm, tearing through skin until it found bone. The kidnapper smiled as McGee slumped motionlessly against the cold chair, pain overwhelming him, pulling him into welcomed, painless darkness._

**TBC!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again for reading  
I kinda forgot this bit, but I don't own any of NCIS.**

Gibbs pushed through the directors door, ignoring her assistances indignant demands to wait until announced.

Gibbs looked coldly at the newly appointed Director.

Glancing up at Gibbs, the barely concealed concern in Director Sheppard's eyes softened Gibbs words slightly, but only slightly.

"What can I do for you Jethro?" she asked, her voice forced calm.

"I need access to McGee's personnel file."

Stunned, she questioned, "Why?"

"This might be a grudge."

"Against Agent McGee?" she asked doubtfully.

"Possibly."

Sighing, she pressed the intercom to her assistant and told her to find McGee's file.

After the brief conversation, they sat in silence until McGee's file was brought in.

Gibbs nodded his thanks and left. Sheppard sat stunned, had Gibbs just thanked her, even if it had been without words? This must be serious. The infallible Gibbs was worried.

McGee woke again in a haze of pain. Everything hurt, it hurt to move, it hurt to sit still. The ropes binding his arms and legs, burning and tearing his skin.

Memories of the last few hours returned slowly. Lifting his head sent waves of pain, dizziness and nausea through his body.

"You awake Timmy?" the cold, mocking monotone voice of his captor pulled him from the protective darkness.

"'Course you are. Come on, time to talk to your boss."

McGee looked up at his captor with confused, pain glazed eyes.

"You still there Timmy?" he asked, slapping McGee's face hard.

McGee blinked, staring at the man who kept him bound.

Sighing, the man produced a phone and dialled, "Say anything but what I tell you to and this…" he threatened, pushing a small knife against the young agents thumb, "will come off."

McGee nodded weakly, lowering his head to his chest. Defeat and pain battling for dominance in his eyes.

Gibbs sat at his desk, not since Shannon and Kelly's deaths had he felt so helpless, so hopeless. In McGee's short time under the elder man, he had become like a surrogate son, he'd been accepted into the small patchwork family as the younger brother.

When his phone rang, he had it held to his ear before the second ring. "Gibbs."

"_You want to see Timmy again?"_ a cruel male voice asked over the phone.

Surprised at the boldness of his youngest agents captor, he asked "What do you want?" he asked coldly.

Signalling to DiNozzo, he mouthed "_Trace this call_." before turning he attention back to the man on the other end. Tony was on his phone to Abby in seconds.

"_Little pissed there, aren't you, Jethro?"_

"You think?" Gibbs muttered.

A stifled laughed filtered through the phone, _"You are a bastard, you know that? But, hey, if you don't want to see your agent alive again, that's no problem of mine. I'll just kill this one, and take a different one. How about that black haired, goth chick?"_

Gibbs heard the small but defiant threat shouted by his youngest agent about what would happen if he touched Abby, but Gibbs also heard the crack as fist met flesh.

"What do you want?" Gibbs demanded again, trying to get the kidnappers attention away from Tim.

"_I want you."_

"Fine. But let me talk to McGee first, then I'll come to you."

The phone could be heard moving and the muffled call of, "remember what I said." and then Gibbs heard on of the best sounds he'd heard all day.

"_Boss?"_ a small, quaking, tired voice asked, but, even in its weakened state, the voice was unmistakably McGee.

"Hey, you alright?" Gibbs asked, not trying to hide the concern in his voice.

"_Been better. Look, this…this guy wants you. He knows you're…tracing the call, so when Abby gets the location, come see him." _McGee said between gasped breaths.

"But your alright?"

"_Fine…" _Gibbs knew his young agent was lying, it was so obvious whatever the man had done, hurt.

"I **will** get you out Tim. I promise."

"_Thanks…Boss."_ McGee's voice faded as the phone was pulled away from the young mans mouth.

"_See you in half an hour."_ the call ended with the mans menacing laugh echoing in Gibbs' ear.

Gibbs looked up at Tony who was sitting silently, pretending not to listen to Gibbs' conversation.

"DiNozzo, you get a trace?" Gibbs asked.

Tony looked up, slightly barely repressed anger shaking his voice, "Y-Yes Boss."

"Go get Ziva, meet me at the truck." they were both moving before Gibbs finished speaking.

As Ziva and Tony arrived at the car parked in the parking lot beside NCIS headquarters, the team jumped in, Gibbs in the drivers seat, Tony beside him and Ziva in back.

Driving faster then he normally would, he heard Tony whisper, "Never though I'd say this, but Boss, go faster."

In reply, Gibbs pushed harder on the accelerator, taking the car to the limits of its endurance.

The man raised his head from his chest where it had fallen soon after the end of the call.

He stared into McGee's expressive eyes, seeing pain, fear, anger and something he didn't expect.

"Why do you pity me? I'm the one torturing you." McGee's captor asked.

"Because, Gibbs will kill you." McGee lifted his head to look into his captors gray eyes, "and I will let him." McGee smiled in triumph as fear passed over the man's face.

"Is that so, well, you won't live long enough to see it." the man stood and walked over to the table, selected a small knife and slowly walked back to McGee.

His captor ran the blade down McGee's arm. Blood dripped slowly to the already blood stained floor.

The man grinned in satisfaction as McGee's face contorted in pain.

"Had enough yet?" the man asked, leaning closer, his breath hot and wet against McGee's cool skin.

"Go. To. Hell." McGee coughed.

The man smiled insanely, laughing, he said, "Mate," the man lent closer, "we're already there."

McGee looked up and saw his captors eyes, he shivered and averted his gaze. For the first time since his capture, he felt truly afraid.

Gibbs arrived ten minutes later. The oppressive atmosphere of the car was nothing compared to the worry as Gibbs, Ziva and Tony stepped out of the car and out into the small courtyard beside the abandoned gray building, their target and where Tim was being held.

Gibbs took charge, "Ziva round back, DiNozzo, with me."

They pulled their guns from the holsters, holding them lowered slightly, ready to move on Gibbs' signal.

Gibbs nodded and they moved towards their respective positions.

As Ziva rounded the corner at the back of the building, a bullet ricocheted beside her, missing her by an inch and causing her to dive for cover. Shouting her warning to Gibbs over the headset, she glanced around the corner again. A volley of gunfire greeted her along with a shout of, "Come any closer and I'll kill McGee."

Silence fell, deafening and overwhelming.

Gibbs and Tony arrived beside their hiding team mate, "You alright?" Tony asked quickly.

Nodding, Ziva continued to stare at the window the first shot had been fired through.

"What happened?" Gibbs demanded.

"Shots fired from the second window from the right, third floor. Said not to come closer or he'll kill McGee."

"Is McGee even in there?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, but I was not willing to take the risk."

Gibbs nodded and turned his eyes on the building.

A sudden call of "I will speak to Special Agent Gibbs only." startling the team into silence. "Special Agent Gibbs, are you down there?"

"I'm here." Gibbs called back.

"Good. I want you to come in here, alone, unarmed and only then will I let agent McGee go."

Gibbs was silent for only a second, "Fine, five minutes, then I come in."

"GIBBS! You can't." Ziva protested and Tony stood silently shocked.

"SWAT is half an hour out, this is the only way to stall for time." Gibbs holstered his sidearm and handed it over to Tony. "When they get here, I want you to come in as soon as possible."

Both younger agents nodded their understanding, Gibbs stood, hands raised over his head in surrender. "I'm coming in, alone and unarmed."

"The door right in front of you."

"Be careful." Ziva whispered as Gibbs stepped towards the slightly ajar door.

**TBC  
Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi again! Hope you like the next chapters!**

Gibbs slowly stepped through the door, head moving from side to side, searching the front room for signs of life. The same voice called from somewhere up the stairs to his left.

"Hurry up Gibbs." the voice laughed.

"How do I know McGee's still alive?" he asked.

The voice sighed and movement could be heard from above him, then a cry of pain. Gibbs knew his agents voice, the pained quality becoming a too frequent occurrence.

The cry came again and Gibbs called up, "I get it, he's alive. What do I do?" he hated not being in charge, but if his continuing obedience saved McGee from anymore pain, then it was worth it.

"The stairs, walk up slowly with your hands behind your head."

Gibbs did as he was told.

The short walk up to the next floor was so slow, it was almost painful.

As he stepped out onto the landing, the voice came again, "down the hall to your right. It's the door at the end of the corridor."

Gibbs followed the passage and could see light flickering from under the closed door.

Hand outstretched to the doorknob, Gibbs felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his temple.

The gun pressed hard against Gibbs' head, "Move." he whispered in the agents ear.

The man's hand moved past Gibbs and opened the door, pushing the agent in ahead of him. Gibbs stumbled on the slightly uneven floorboards. Catching himself against the wooden table. He had time to look around properly as he slowly straightened.

The sight before him would haunt him for the rest of his life, however short that may now be.

On the table he was holding onto lay an assortment of knives, blades and whips. Torture devises arranged in lines, some clean and polished, others stained with gleaming red blood.

Gibbs looked up and the air was forcibly ripped from his lungs at the sight of his youngest agent.

McGee was tied to a hard backed wooden chair, hands bound to each of the chairs arms with rope that had dug into his skin, leaving his wrists raw and bloody. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, blood staining it a darker brown then normal. His shirt hung loosely from his frame, ripped and torn where knives had cut through and into the skin beneath. But what scared Gibbs the most was the amount of blood not only drying on his agent, but also pooling underneath him.

"Shit, McGee?" Gibbs asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The gun was back, but this time it dug into his back, between his ribs.

"Sit," the voice hissed, pushing Gibbs forward to a chair in front of McGee.

Quickly moving forward, Gibbs sat in the chair and the man moved around and strapped Gibbs in. Thick rope wound around Gibbs' wrists and chest holding him in place. When he was tied up, the man patted Gibbs down. Searching for concealed weapons. Finding none, the man walked around and stood in front of Gibbs.

"You kept to the terms of our bargain. So will I, just not quite yet." a grin spread across the mans face.

Gibbs' heart beat just that much faster in his chest as the man made his way over to the wooden table and selected a small knife. Raising it, he inspected it in the light, letting it reflect off the shiny surface before replacing it on the table. Gibbs' sigh of relief was cut short as the man picked up a larger knife and turned away from the table to face McGee.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Gibbs hissed.

The man turned to face Gibbs, the grin ever present, "And just _what_ are you going to do about it, hmm?" the man turned back to McGee and ran the blade lovingly up McGee's already exposed chest. The cut it left wasn't deep enough too scar, but it hurt. Gibbs watched as McGee's face contorted in pain as the blade moved up and down in long strokes across Tim's chest.

Gibbs' mind was working on overtime. He knew the voice, the eyes, but couldn't remember from where. The man moved his head and Gibbs caught a glimpse of a scar on his temple, a straight line that ran from beside his eye and along into his hair.

Gibbs' intake of breath turned the man's head, "Michael?" Gibbs asked quietly.

The man's grin grew and he laughed, removing the blade from McGee's blood slicked skin "You finally remember me, Jethro. It took long enough."

Gibbs still couldn't believe it, "You're supposed to still be locked up." he whispered in disbelief.

"To bad for you, I'm not." Michael laughed. "Want to explain who I am to your agent, explain why I've been torturing him?"

Gibbs lowered his eyes too look into McGee's, the curiosity was obvious in the younger man's face, even through the obvious pain.

Gibbs sighed and told his younger agent the story. "This was before any of you joined my team…"

_Michael King was the probie, the new kid on the block. It'd been that way most of his life. His father moved from one town to another with the navy._

_Michael had joined NCIS a year previously and had been moved onto Gibbs' team soon after. The navy brat knew what it was to serve under a marine, and this was something Gibbs and Michael bonded over._

_They worked together for over a year before _it_ happened._

_They knew who had killed the petty officer, now, all that was left was to find him. The case was a long and gruelling one. The killer had spent his time torturing and raping his victims before cutting their throats. But before they died, the killer had taken the victim's finger. A different finger from each victim._

_Michael had tracked the guy to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. The trip there had been made in silence. Gibbs driving, Michael sitting beside him, SWAT in a van behind._

"_Next left, Boss." Michael informed Gibbs as they sped down the deserted dirt road. Gibbs made the turn, dust flying behind him as they drove an inhuman speeds._

_They arrived at the house. It looked deserted, but the tire tracks in the dirt beside the house said differently._

_Gibbs and Michael jumped out, guns raised and were hurrying towards the house before SWAT even had their doors open. Moving as one, Gibbs and Michael moved through the house, checking each room._

_The house was empty, but the barn in the back corner of the yard had yet to be cleared. Gibbs and Michael met at the back door and rushed towards the barn._

_That had been when all hell broke lose._

_The automatic gunfire took both agents by surprise. Caught in the open they could do nothing but keep running._

_Then Michael went down._

_Gibbs watched as his subordinate, his team-mate, his friend, fell and blood began to cover the dry land. Gibbs made it to the barn unscathed. He turned back to see Michael laying out in the open, bleeding from a head wound. The only thought in Gibbs' head was that Michael was dead, that he had failed as a leader and friend and got one of his men killed._

_Gibbs turned, pure rage flashed in his eyes. Rushing into the barn and up to the loft without a second though. The gunman didn't know what hit him. The man heard footsteps, turned, and three bullets hit his chest dead centre._

_Gibbs just stared down at the gunman before him, feeling nothing._

_A shout for an ambulance brought Gibbs back and he looked out the loft window and down on the scene playing out on the ground._

_One of the SWAT members was holding cloth to the side of Michaels head, trying to stem the flow of blood. To Gibbs, that meant only one thing, that Michael was alive._

_Gibbs rushed out of the barn and to his fallen friend. Taking over from the SWAT man, he pushed the cloth to Michael's head and whispering words of comfort and reassurance as the ambulance's sirens were first heard coming up the dirt road._

Gibbs turned his face away from both men standing before him. Tears pricking his eyes, his voice breaking at the last word. McGee could see the pain the story was causing Gibbs.

"I'll continue, shall I?" Michael asked. When he received no answer, Michael picked up where Gibbs had left off.

_It was two weeks before Michael woke from the coma the bullet had sent him into. He woke to Gibbs sitting beside his bed, coffee in hand, reading a cold case file._

_Michael opened his mouth to speak, but only a weak groan made it out._

_Gibbs was on his feet in an instant. Placing a straw to Michael's lips, Gibbs pulled the cup away when Michael drank too quickly._

"_That's enough." Gibbs whispered, "You don't want to throw this up."_

_Michael lay back in bed, his head throbbing in time with his heart beat._

"_Wha…" Michael started._

"_You were shot in the head at the farm, remember?"_

_Michael remembered the farm, remembered the trip there, and sweeping the house, then walking out to the bar then the shooting then…nothing._

_Gibbs sat quietly as Michael tried to remember._

"_The EMT's arrived and took you to hospital where they said you were in a coma. It's been two weeks and this is the first time you've woken."_

_Michael nodded slightly in understanding and tried to sit up, but nothing worked, noting moved. He began to panic._

_Gibbs rested a hand on Michael's shoulder, "there were…complications." he whispered lamely. "The doctor will explain it all to you when he arrives._

McGee looked up at the man standing in front of him, Michael, then glanced over at a guilty looking Gibbs.

"What did the doctor say." no matter what this man had done to him, McGee couldn't help but feel sympathy for the ex-agent before him, and as the story continued, that sympathy only grew.

_The doctor had come and gone, leaving Michael in a state of shock._

_The bullet had caused permanent brain damage. The coma had been a by-product of that damage. Swelling to a large section of his brain had cut off oxygen to a large part of it, essentially leaving him partially brain dead._

_He would have no self control. No control over how he expressed himself. He would most likely never regain complete movement in his left arm and his right would need extensive physical therapy to relearn even the most simple of tasks._

_He cried that night. For the first time in years, he cried. Gibbs held him for a time but there was nothing the elder man could do._

_Over the next few days, Michael yelled, screamed and cried more than he had in his entire life, and he couldn't stop it. He had no control over how he expressed himself._

_Gibbs came by before and after work, told him all the scuttlebutt going around the office. But these meeting almost always ended in Gibbs being ushered out because Michael wouldn't stop yelling at him to leave._

_They moved him into a nursing home three weeks later. Gibbs still came every day, but Michael refused to see him._

_The nursing home couldn't care for Michael during his fits of anger so he was moved to a mental institute. Gibbs' visits became every second day, and still he wasn't allows in. Then once every week, then once every month, then they just stopped._

_Michael still couldn't contain his anger, and the only way he could get through the day was drugged up to the eyeballs with anti-psychotics and a large range of sedatives._

_It had taken Michael seven years to break out of the institute, and another month to find Gibbs and watch his new team._

McGee's eyes never left his boss. So he never saw the knife come from his left and imbed itself in his side.

This time he couldn't hold back the scream. Truth be told, he didn't try.

Gibbs looked up in time to watch Michael pull the knife from McGee's side and stab it in the other side, pulling it out slowly this time, twisting it slightly, ripping through flesh as blood seeped unhindered down his side's.

Blood coated the knife, McGee's tattered shirt and the floor around them. Darkness took McGee away. Pulling him under and into the turmoil of his own mind. Into the never ending nightmares that awaited the unconscious man.

**Poor McGee! Hope it meet expectations. Again, all review are welcomed!**

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hope you like it!**

Gibbs shouted McGee's name in panic, demanding McGee stay with him. Michael just stood there laughing, grinning insanely.

Then the crash came from downstairs. Gibbs knew SWAT was there, knew Ziva and Tony were coming up, coming to get them.

"Their here Tim, they've come to get you out. They've come to take you home." Gibbs whispered to the unconscious man.

Michael moved like lightning. Grabbing the gun from the table, he placed it to McGee's temple and waited, staring at the closed door as the footsteps drew nearer.

The door flew open and Tony pushed in. Taking in the situation in a moment, Tony glared at the man holding McGee hostage, holding _his_ probie hostage.

Ziva moved up behind him and froze at the sight of McGee tied to the chair, bleeding heavily. Breath hitching as the metallic smell of blood permeated the air.

"Let him go." Tony said, voice calm and even but his eyes showed his inner turmoil.

"Make me." Michael whispered and began to squeeze the trigger.

A single gunshot reverberated in the small space.

Michael fell backwards as the bullet impacted with his forehead, sending him sprawling to the floor, gun flying uselessly to one side.

Tony rushed forward, falling to his knees at Tim's side. Tony could hear Ziva securing Michael, heard a SWAT man rush forward and untie Gibbs, heard another call for an ambulance but none of it registered. Focusing only on McGee.

As chaos rained down around him, Tony slowly pulled his knife from his belt and began cutting through the bindings. Even unconscious, McGee flinched at the cold touch of metal on his skin.

When he was finally undone, Tony lay Tim on the wooden floor, holding his tattered shirt over one of the wounds in his side as someone from SWAT pressed a compress bandage to McGee's other side.

Gibbs stood off to one side, Ziva beside him. Watching in silence as Tony tried desperately to save their teem mate and friend.

The EMT's arrived a few minutes after Tony had lain McGee on the floor. Pushing both SWAT and NCIS agent out of the way, to get to McGee.

Loading him onto the gurney, it took some time to get McGee down the stairs. But to Gibbs, time was moving around him, but nothing registered until Tony placed a hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"This is not your fault." he whispered.

Gibbs nodded and reached to the small of his back and turned off the recorder. "Did you get everything?"

"Yes. Everything." Ziva said, her normally cold voice shook with both fear and rage.

"Good. Then McGee will only need to write a report on what happened."

Tony and Ziva nodded as they silently made their way down the stairs to the car waiting out front.

As they drove to Bethesda, Ziva called Abby to tell her they found McGee, and Tony called Sarah.

Both women said they would meet them at the hospital and quickly hung up.

The rest of the trip was made in silence, all lost in their own memories of the room. Of Tim's blood on the floor, walls and table. Of sweet innocent McGee tied to a chair, bleeding. All of them praying that Tim would pull through, that he would be alright.

They arrived after a ten minute drive. Gibbs driving faster then ever before.

They piled out of the car and headed into the hospital.

Gibbs hurried to the information desk and demanded to be told what was happened to his agent. Luckily, before Gibbs was thrown out for beating the unhelpful receptionist into submission, Ducky came out and escorted them up to the surgery waiting room.

"They haven't told us much yet, but Timothy's in surgery for the stab wounds to his sides and also to re-inflate his lung which collapsed when he was stabbed. That is all we know." Ducky informed the worried team.

The second Gibbs walked through the door, a black blur raced at him, latching on to him, arms rapped tightly around his shoulders. It was all he could do to stay standing.

"Hey, Abbs." he whispered into her hair as she shook with silent sobs. "How're you doing?""He…they…then…he's…" Abby's voice broke with each word, "Oh Gibbs…tell me he'll be alright…please…"

Gibbs' heart broke at Abby's begging plea. "I wish I could. But you know McGee. He won't stop fighting. Have you ever known him to give up that easily?"

Gibbs felt Abby's head shake 'no'.

"There you go." Gibbs smiled and moved Abby back to the seats.

Several minutes later Sarah arrived demanding to know what happened to her brother. Tony took her to one side and explained it. Gibbs glanced over at them every few seconds. Tony ended up leading a crying Sarah to the seat beside Abby and the two women held each other as they cried for Tim.

_God Tim_ Gibbs thought _You better make it through this. I don't think any of us can handle losing anyone else, and Sarah would be heartbroken_.

So the team sat vidual outside the surgery, waiting for any news on McGee.

Good or bad, anything was better then the continued silence.

**TBC  
****  
This one is a really short chapter.  
The next ones might take a little longer to post, I still have to write them...  
All reviews are loved**


	6. Chapter 6

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They waited for another hour and a half before the doctor finally came out. The team ambushed him before he finished asking if there was anyone there for Timothy McGee.

The doctor held up his hand to silence the bombardment of questions.

"First off. Agent McGee should be fine. Baring any post op complications, he should make it through with no permanent damage, other then a few scars. Agent McGee has been very lucky. Most of the cuts were superficial and will heal quickly with minimal scaring. The main concern was the stab wounds to his sides. The left one was simple to close, hitting no major organs. The right was a little more complicated. This one was done in an upper motion" the doctor demonstrated, his hands showing the knife entering the skin and curving the blade upwards once inside. "This injury presented the most problems, deflating his right lung and causing massive bleeding."

The group gasped together, in any other setting it would have been comical.

The doctor held up a calming hand, waiting for silence before continuing, "We were able to stop the bleeding, re-inflate the lung and close up the wound. They will hurt for a while, and both will scar, but other then that, he should be fine. He'll be moved into the ICU once they finish with the last blood transfusion in about twenty minutes. Though only family are allowed to visit him."

Sarah smiled, "I'm his sister" she pointed to Gibbs, "this is our father," to Ducky, "our uncle," to Tony, Abby and Ziva, "my brother, sister and adoptive sister." and to Palmer, "and our cousin."

The doctor smiled, he could tell they weren't blood relatives, but family nonetheless. '_A rose by any other name_' the doctor thought as he nodded, "But no more then three at a time, you have to be quiet and you can't wake him. The best thing for Agent McGee now is sleep."

The group nodded in acceptance and went to take their seats.

"I'll send a nurse out to get the first three when he's ready."

Half an hour later, the group was getting worried. Jumping every nurse who walked through the doors. Finally, a nurse walked out and asked for the three visitors for Timothy McGee.

Sarah, Gibbs and Abby stood. It had been wordlessly decided that they would go in first, then Tony and Ziva would take Sarah and Abby's places. Then Ducky and Palmer for a short visit as they had bodies waiting for them in the morgue. Throughout, Gibbs refused to leave his agents room. They all knew why but no one commented.

Gibbs had been there when McGee was stabbed, he felt it was his fault that _his_ youngest agent was hurt, even if it wasn't.

The first thee entered McGee's room, Sarah first then Abby, Gibbs holding back till last. When both women saw Tim, they broke down crying.

McGee looked incredibly small, so many tubes and wires covered his body. The white bandages that could be seen over his shoulders and chest extending down his abdomen and under the sheet that covered his lower ribs and below.

Abby grasped Tim's right hand and Sarah, his left. They whispered words of encouragement through their tears and promised to visit every day.

"You'll be fine Tim, everything will be ok." became Abby's mantra by the end of the fifteen minute visit, Sarah's wasn't much different.

With one last kiss on his forehead and cheek, the two women left, clutching each other for support as they left Tim with Gibbs. Thought out the visit, Gibbs stood silently in the background.

Tony and Ziva's visits weren't much better, but there was much less crying. Though neither agent shed a tear, Gibbs could see their eyes were shining and near the end, Tony surreptitiously wiped away a rebellious tear, both Ziva and Gibbs pretended not to notice.

Gibbs ordered them to go home, rest and be at the office at ten the next morning to do their reports. Both agents nodded and reluctantly left.

Duck and Palmer's was the shortest visit, lasting no more then ten minutes.

Gibbs had expected Ducky to be emotional, but seeing Palmer almost cry as he held Tim's hand and told him they could always play the new computer game next weekend warmed his heart.

Ducky smiled down at McGee for most of the time, in between reading the boys chart and looking worriedly at Gibbs. Palmer and Ducky left together, Ducky with a comforting hand on Palmers shoulder and Palmer again trying not to cry in front of his mentor or agent Gibbs.

Finally, it was just Gibbs and McGee.

The doctor had said Tim wouldn't wakeup until the next morning at the earliest, so when McGee started moaning and rolling his head from side to side, Gibbs knew his youngest agent was in the throws of a nightmare. Whenever Kelly had been having a nightmare, Gibbs had always sat on the bed, stroked her hair and whispered reassuring words to her. So he followed his parental instincts.

Sitting beside his agent, he ran his fingers through McGee's hair and whispered to him until he stilled.

It didn't take long for McGee to fall back into a dreamless sleep. Comforted by the words and touch he hadn't felt since he was a child.

This continued the entire night, McGee would start thrashing against some invisible enemy and Gibbs would lull him back to sleep. For Gibbs, it was a tiring night as the adrenalin finally left his system completely and only McGee's distress kept him awake.

Everyone came in to visit McGee the next morning, hoping he would be awake. But none could stay as they had work, and Sarah had classes.

When Gibbs asked Sarah when they should expect Tim's parents, Sarah gave him a pitying look and told him their parents had died not long before Tim had joined Gibbs' team. Nodding, Gibbs smiled and told her he would look after McGee until the nurses kicked him out.

Tim woke at about eleven in the morning. Gibbs was coming back from getting coffee when he heard McGee moaning weakly. Gibbs hurried in, placing his coffee on the table beside McGee's bed and promptly forgetting about it.

Gibbs focused solely on Tim. The rest of the world ignored as his agent slowly pulled himself from the drug induced sleep. Gibbs had been subjected to drug induced sleep many times before and knew how disconcerting it was to wake in a completely different place from where you fell asleep with the drugs still clouding your mind.

Holding McGee's hand, Gibbs lent over the younger man and waited for Tim to wake.

McGee could feel the warmth encircling his hand, but the pain in his sides and chest took most of his attention. After the pain, came the feeling of floating, of moving when he knew he was not.

He could hear the warm, strong voice comforting him but couldn't make out the words. It took too long to wake up. Way to long. And by the time Tim could open his eyes, he knew that something was wrong.

Opening his eyes to slits, he closed them almost instantly as the bright fluorescent lights burnt his retinas. Gibbs saw the discomfort the light brought and turned the lights off and closed the curtain most of the way, leaving only enough light to see by.

Gibbs told McGee that the lights were off and he could open his eyes again, but it took a little while before Tim understood the order and even more time before he could obey.

"'oss…?" McGee asked, the word catching in his dry throat and making him cough.

Pressing the straw to McGee's mouth, Gibbs was struck by the similarity to his time with Michael after the accident.

Tim took a few sips before pulling away from the cup. Gibbs understood and replaced the cup on the table.

"How're you feeling McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Fine." came the automatic response. At Gibbs' disbelieving look, McGee rephrased it, "I feel better…then before…" wincing as breathing in too deeply hurt. "How'd I…get here?"

"Ambulance." at McGee's blank look, Gibbs explained, "You passed out from blood loss and shock, Ziva and Tony arrived and saved us. Michael's dead and in the morgue. The EMT's arrived and took you to Bethesda where you've been for the last day and a half."

McGee took a second to possess the new information, but eventually asked, "You guy's call…my sister?"

Gibbs smiled, "You're going to have to fend Abby and Sarah off with sticks. I think they joined forces."

"Ah, shit." Tim smiled, though with his pained expression, it looked more like a grimace "not a moments peace…for a while then."

Nodding, Gibbs turned suddenly serious, "Tim…I'm sorry about what happened. It's my fault you…"

"Someone once told me," McGee interrupted, "that apologising…is a sign of weakness." Gibbs opened his mouth to interrupt but McGee continued "And none of this…is your fault, so there's nothing…to apologise for."

Gibbs lowered his head, "But if…"

McGee's voice grew stronger as he talked "_No_. No if's, but's or maybe's. There is not point of doing this to yourself. It is Not. Your. Fault." McGee felt back against the bed, breathing hard between pained whimpers.

"It's been a long time since someone taught me anything." Gibbs smiled, hand resting on McGee's shoulder "and it's been even longer since someone taught me my own rules." McGee smiled self-consciously. "But you're right." Gibbs conceded, "It's not really my fault, but it feels as if it is."

McGee attempted to leaver himself into a sitting position, all that accomplished was a pained cry, a coughing fit and his pounding headache increasing.

The moment Gibbs realised what his youngest was trying to do, he places his hands on McGee's shoulders and pushed him back down, being mindful of the still healing wounds on his chest.

Gibbs sat with his hand still resting on Tim's shoulder as McGee attempted to slowly his breathing.

"McGee?"

Tim smiled weakly, "I'm…alright…" McGee reassured Gibbs, "not…y'ur…fault." his words slurring as sleep pulled him under.

"I know." Gibbs whispered, he squeezed Tim's shoulder, "I know."

**Wow…thank's so much for reading this far!  
I hope this meats your expectation. Please review!**


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